


Guns and Posies

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Cliche, Flower snop, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Social Anxiety, THE ULTIMATE CLICHE, gun store, i own a flower shop and you work at a gun store
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5129060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has never been good with people, but those he cares a bout, he'd give the world to. Dean is the same, and he moved all the way down from Kansas to help his adoptee father with a management position right next door to a certain adorable florist...</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>This is a story I wrote AGES ago and never posted...it'll probs never be finished but it's a good read anyways <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel Novak pulled himself sleepily out from the covers which were tightly warped around his slender figure.   
They fell to the other side of the bed as he rolled his eyes exhaustingly. An alarm clock blasted and throbbed loudly at the back of his skull, causing it slightly hard to think or make sense of the day as he tried to reach the sleep button. The beeping ceased with one final honk of desperation for attention and shut itself off, now only displaying blurred lines of what he assumed was the time. Placed neatly on his dreary bedside table was a pair of thick-rimmed, black glasses. He prepared to reach his arm for them but felt his elbow touch an object unfamiliar to his weary eyes. A glass of water he'd forgotten he had retrieved last night before bed spun on the spot of a few seconds, and then descended onto the carpet floor. The contents spilled, causing it to splatter across the room, all the way to the door.  
Castiel sighed and fingered around for his spectacles, he'd clean that up later. 

When he discovered their location, he placed them on the tip of his nose intelligently, although they didn't help his vision much, as his glossy eyes were glazed over with sleep and they barely had the ability to open. He just managed to read the alarm clock before he realised he was late for work. 

He made an effort of exclaiming loudly and then attempted to jump out of his bed. Although the as he tried the large duvet caught his ankle and forced him to fall face first onto a small shard of glass that must have cracked on its way down to the floor. 

It stung his forehead as he pulled up quickly.

He felt above his eyebrows, then pulled his fingertips back to his eyes as to inspect them. Blood was trickling out of his wound slowly, he tilted his head are retracted a little at the sight of he red. Castiel waddled his way over to the bathroom, being as careful and attentive as he could as to not step on any shards of glass.

He pressed his finger lightly on the outdated, unique, very retro looking radio that was set up and plugged in on the edge of his plain, cream, dull wardrobe as he passed it. He bought her when Castiel first moved away from his family 5 years ago. he named her 'Jessica' when he first bought the place. Covered in stickers from over the years, she would gladly play his favourite songs. They never varied, and we're always the same set playlist. He was content with it that way, and he relied on her to do her job and she hadn't let him down yet.  
Jessica always played his favourite music on repeat, everyday, just the way he liked it. 

Castiel inspected his forehead with an intense glare through the lenses of his glasses. His bright, beautiful crystal-blue eyes barely seen between his eyelids as he was squinting with focus, while he grabbed a tissue and dabbed his cut gently.

Once the drizzle of blood had slowed to a stop, Castiel stretched his shirt out once more, fixed his collar and nodded confidently in the mirror. He combed his crazy untamed dark hair that spiked and twisted in every direction with his fingers carefully so it was flat and orderly. And even then it began to spring back up in spots to his dismay. 

while the wireless softly soothed to the tunes of a folk band he enjoyed, he brushed his teeth in time to the quiet beats of the music that echoed from his bedroom. Castiel Novak finished brushing his teeth and placed a two small white pills onto his tongue nonchalantly from one of the many plain bottles he kept on the basin.   
Like he hadn't taken them. The radio was playing 'Florence the machine' when he wearily shut off Jessica. Her voice wound down almost immediately causing him to feel a sense of uneasiness. The music blocked out his thoughts a lot of the time, and so having to turn her off was a difficult task in Castiel's eyes.

When he was done, Castiel tip-toed out of his minuscule ensuite, and toward his outfit for today; a collared, white button up dress-shirt and a fitting light blue sweater, with small sapphire cross stitching all the way through it. He took his grey shirt off to reveal his skinny posture. His back muscles stiffened slightly to the cold and he slipped on his day clothes immediately.

He ripped a large dark jacket from his wooden, old-style coat rack, causing it to wobble a little. The lean man tried to slip on his long winter jacket clumsily as he placed his finger between the set of keys that were strewn over the breakfast table in his petite kitchen. They jingled loudly as he dropped them into his pocket. 

He stared at the large rustic looking clock that hung precariously along his wall. It looked more like an abstract piece than it did a clock, but Castiel enjoyed it, and if he did, then he never expected anyone else to. 

overall Castiel was a placid, organised, and kind young man, who gained a sense of peace in order and normality. Nothing changed in his life, and that's exactly the way he liked it. He prepared himself for his stroll to work, when a chirpy, kind voice paused his thoughts.

He finally managed to get the door open (with a lot of struggle and jiggling of keys into broken locks), and he stepped outside. His cottage like house was perfectly out of place in amongst the modern, but still country homes. But that's why Castiel loved it so much. It had a small backyard, but enough room to still grow flowers in it and if he wanted, to have a pet. With a breath of smoggy air, Castiel placed his first shoe in front of him, when he was stopped by an Oaky voice, his best friends, full of kindness and smiles.

"Hello Clarence! Chilly morning. I like you're sweater! Something different today I see?"

A youthful woman greeted him kindly. She was watering her plants next door while waving at him wildly. She couldn't have been much younger than Castiel himself. He turned his body full circle and spotted her across the White-picket-fence. She possessed long brown hair that hung over her shoulders, and dark oaky eyes. She had cute flushed cheeks and a slender body.   
"Oh yes, it is extremely cold, I dislike it a lot."

"Sucks for the flowers mostly. I'm just surprised all the guys who turned up to my party last night didn't trample on them."

She giggled girlishly and looked down at her bountiful rows of flowers practically covering her deck. Unlike Castiel, meg was a normal 24 year old; she didn't own her own business, and she partied every weekend. She worked down at the psychiatric hospital as a part-time nurse, and she enjoyed it a lot. She is also studying at Some fancy university from home over the Internet. 

But for some reason, this perfect, amazing, kind girl wanted to be Castiel's best friend. Even meg herself didn't know why, she believed it has something to do with the fact she didn't know anyone like him. He was completely unique. "Thank you for them all, by the way... The flowers, I mean."  
She raised her arm to the back of her wavy hair and scratched it awkwardly, but still grinning brightly.   
"So, uh- I'm doing well, and you're-"  
She paused to glance at the pretty flowery clock that hung up on her porch wall "late for work. Are you sick? Is everything ok?"

Castiel shrugged awkwardly. He didn't really want to tell Meg anything was wrong, she would worry and pester him till he told her, but after 7 years of knowing each other, Castiel couldn't not lie. "I Uh,"

He kicked the gravel at his feet uneasily. Contrary to Cas's upset stare and unnerved banter, she smiled even wider, turning to water the next bunch of spectacular roses on her porch. "I- I'm fine, I guess I've been staying up late watching a lot of game of thrones." 

Castiel lied. He hated television. As if she read his mind, she turned and faced him. Small trickles of water dripping out of the watering can. "Don't be silly Castiel. I know you love movies, but you hate tv."   
She caught his lie with ease. Now raising her eyebrow and her voice became shrill and heightened. "Castiel..."

She folded her arms stubbornly and tapped her foot impatiently. "I-"   
Castiel heaved his arms down in defeat. "I've been staying up late at the store again. There's just so much to do and-"

"Castiel James Novak! We have talked about this! You could get killed, raped, or mugged at those hours of the night! Promise me you will come home before it gets dark tonight ok? Or at least call me to come pick you up alright?"

Castiel nodded like small obedient child does their mother, meg finished feeding her plants and stared, squinting at Castiel, then gave a thorough nod of trust. Meg glaned at her clock again and widened her eyes. "Get going, Clarence. I don't want you to leave, but you have an appointment with more flowers"

Castiel pursed his lips, and looked down at his watch. Meg studied him carefully as he did this. "I'm sorry meg, I have to go. See you for afternoon tea later?"

"Sounds awesome." Her concerned stare had vanished and Castiel was left asking if she even was worried at all. She grinned teeth bared, as tipped his head to her. "Good- bye mr Novak. Have a wonderful, I mean good day at work."

She made her voice sound silly and bowed to Castiel in hilarity. Meg always loved making fun of him about the how he acted and in the strange way he spoke. He couldn't help it though, Castiel was a very shy person, but somehow everyone in town enjoyed his company. He'd lived here for almost 7 years now, and had been renting next to meg since the day he moved in.   
Quickly Castiel learned kindness, hard work and a sense of community was all anyone could ever need in this small country town. and he learned it all on his own.

He smiled back at Meg once more as waved him off, and He began walking into the suburbs, Like he did everyday.

His heels clicked lightly against the pavement as he strolled by, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and his hands in his pant pockets. every breath letting out a small cloud of carbon dioxide, he shivered. How Castiel disliked the chilly days. When the sun was out, bees were buzzing and flowers were blooming, Castiel was always at peace. But today was gloomy, overcast and cold. "Completely out of season"

He mumbled to himself on the supposed summer morning.  
The breeze brushed past his face, messing up his neatly flattened hair, Which consequently made him feel less energetic than usual. He scruffed it around, trying to make it presentable, to little success. If anything it made it worse.

A park sat quiet and lone across the small road from where he was. On weekends all the kids in the town would go and play there. But right now, the light layer of fog and darkened skies made the scene eerie. The swing sets creaked with ghostly demeanour, and the see-saw sat silently still. Sometimes Castiel would go set up a stall and take orders for the adults around, it was good business. They'd always greet him with a; "well hello mr Novak!" Or "how are you today castiel my dear friend!"

He smiled thinking about all the people who enjoyed his company as he waddled across cracked pavements and continued to stare down the foggy surrounds. Most petite houses and cute driveways were now blanketed in a layer of eeriness and slight abnormality. Pretty porches could only be seen by the dimmed street lamps. The cold air drifted into the beam of brightness, and small bugs hugged onto their sun to little accomplishment. They'd try and fly away though, but would be constantly draw back like impossibly small yo-yo's.   
Soon there was small orange glows that emanated from a house every so often. The smoke pumping out of chimneys also did not apply its help to the creepy scene either. Hands in pockets, he noticed bleary lights that hid behind trimmed curtains, illuminating the street even more, making Castiel less afraid. 

Feet scuffing across the path as he strolled toward the town. Pulling his sleeves over his hands, and he readjusted his glasses further up onto his nose. Small Flecks of rain occasionally dripped onto his eyelids or flushed cheeks from the dreary sky above him, and it made Castiel feel unnerved and cold. 

Wether it was because he got further into town, or because the day was Waking, occasional passers-by would smile generously at his pasty white face, or wave to him willingly. Everyone knew everyone in the small country town, and if they didn't know each other, everyone knew Castiel Novak. He was proud of that fact, and knew it was something he should flaunt. Even if sometimes it made him feel a little claustrophobic and overwhelmed. Occasionally he didn't like waving back, or reciprocating the townspeople a kindness. And at first, they thought he was rude. Soon they all realised Castiel 'was just shy'.

As Castiel swerved around the final corner of what felt like a set of never-ending rows of wooden decks, and white picket fences, he finally came to a extremely cosy shop; it was drenched in a subtle earthy green, and small, hanging plants dangled around a large sign covered in vines. He finally made it to the store. His store. Castiels own business. His sanctuary where he could be surrounded with all of the most beautiful things in the world. His flowers. 

Castiel stared up at the intricate, pretty green sign that hung above the shop, 'florists.'   
He smiled at it and pulled his keys out of his left hand pocket, searching, delving deep into it, when he finally grasped onto the metallic chain. He began to pull them up to the door as he shivered and they slipped out of his frozen fingers.   
"Oops." 

He reached down to grasp them when another sign caught his attention. 'Under new management' was written in large bold red writing across the store next to him. The shop was closed, so the sign must have gone up after dark and Castiel hadn't noticed it walking home.

"Under new- what?"

Castiel almost tripped over he was so shocked. 

Bobby Singer had run this store single-handedly for almost 40 years now. How could he just up and leave? 

Completely out of character, bolting into his shop, Castiel jumped for the phone. Rapidly and tensely trying to push in the correct numbers so he could call Bobby's mobile. He'd gotten half way through when he clumsily flung himself back to the door, flipped the closed sign to open, and flailed all the way back to the phone, to finish Dialling Bobby's number. He had been almost like a father to Castiel since he moved to the town, always greeting him hello, and goodbye, and whenever they met up, bobby would offer Castiel a drink. "Water please"

He'd always say. And bobby would shrug his shoulders, and place his silver flask filled with God knows what between his beard covered lips.  
Sometimes Castiel would go see bobby for dinner, and he would bring some half decent food that wasn't mouldy cheese sandwiches or too many fingers of whiskey for bobby, and bring it to his house, then they'd sit down for a meal and watch whatever sports game bobby was betting on that night. Castiel liked the comforting silence bobby provided. It gave him a chance to get out of his own house, but still be in the company of someone he appreciated and respected. 

A gruff, sleepy voice accompanied by a quiet click muffled out of Castiel's phone. "Bobby? Where are you? Are you ok? What is going on?"

"Calm down boy!"  
Bobby shouted from the receiver as Castiel frantically shuffled around behind the counter, organising things in an optimal position, and making sure nobody could trip over anything as they strolled through his dew smelling store. "Now. Castiel, you knew this was coming... I'm old, and I told you I was going to retire soon-"

"Retire? You mean you're never coming back?"

"Of course I'm coming back to the store you idjit!"  
He silenced Castiel with a final grumble. "I can't just leave the new manager all alone to work a gun store, now can I?"

Castiel heard bobby shuffling some papers and moving around his house, and he muttered what Castiel assumed was "he's an idjit too."

"So-"  
Castiel's timid voice came back to him "so what will you be doing while you're retired? Are you going anywhere?"

"Do I look like a Hawaii guy to you boy? Go around wearing flower shirts and leis and crap? No, I'm going to work on my cars full time."  
Bobby's proud grin bursted through Castiel's end of the phone, making even him smile. He knew bobby had always wanted to work on his mechanics for a long while now, but never got the business fully set up. "Look, Uh, how's about you come over tonight, and we can watch the game?"

Castiel shrugged and nodded. Bobby couldn't see the gesture, but Castiel knew he'd take it as a yes. "Ok, well I'll see you-"

"Don't go girlie shit on me Castiel. It's not a date. Just turn up ok? And bring us some of those Ribs from that Uh- whatchmcalls- fancy new place down the street."

Knowing exactly where bobby was talking about, Castiel smiled at the fatherly voice on the other end. "Ok bobby, I will."

Castiel placed the phone down and breathed heavily. Palms outstretched on the table, as he rolled his neck wearily. He was about to sort through the old-fashioned cash register when the little golden bell that perched up in the top corner of Castiel's door tinkled gently, causing him to peer up and put on a warm smile.

Gruff undertones were projected from the door, and even though they were sombre and quiet, "Hi- Uh, I was wondering if I could get flowers here?" 

Castiel didn't say anything to the customer, just stared politely around the room then down to some papers that were ruffled against the table. He began to shuffle them into a neat pile uncomfortably. Of course the man was going to find flowers here. They were everywhere. He honestly had no idea what to do or how to act in social situations, but he did know how to run a store. "Well, you might be able to find some here, if you look really hard."

Castiel kept a neutral expression on his face, although he mentally praised himself for the comment. Castiel did not look up at him yet, but he knew the man at the doorway grinned. Finally breaking the beam he had on Castiel, the tall body began strolling around the perfectly neat and almost compulsively ordered shop.

Castiel finally began to scan up at the man, now that the attention was on his flowers, and not himself. The rhythmic beats of his steps matched the time of the heavy breaths that escaped Castiel's curious, slightly parted lips. He strode around the shop quickly, taking much less steps than it took Castiel to make his way around the store. His feet encased in a large pair of steel-capped, work boots, his feet were huge. Castiel made his way up the mans body; his legs were curved, like a pair of longbows. He was tall. His legs looked flexible- Castiel shrugged off his ideas, and shook his head. But As the man turned around, Castiel got the perfect view of his ass that was wrapped tightly around the dark grey jeans he was wearing. 

He let out the tiniest squeak of enjoyment at the sight, and Quickly the small, lean man looked away as the strange customer turned to face him. And Castiel resumed to shuffle pages Around his workspace until the man broke his suspicious gaze. "What are these called? Some sort of rose?" 

The man finally spoke again. And this time, carefully, slowly, Castiel raised his eyes up to the mans face. (Not before adjusting a pen to face perfectly straight on the table). Immediately regretting this, Castiel tried to look away, but something forced him to keep staring. He had an average to large nose, it stuck out a little when he grinned, but only because he tilted his head up. His ears were pointed and along with his nose, when he raised his eyebrow, his ears perked up too. his defined jawline looked like someone had taken decades to perfect the flawless sculpted face and chin and then just gave it up to him willingly. His lips, were red and lush. And from what Castiel assumed, they were always like that without effort. But the most perfectly imperfect thing about the man was his stunning green eyes; They were like the most fantastic, healthy flowers stem he'd ever seen, the colour of perfectly tended grass, like the newborn leaves of his favourite season. They looked like spring; the season Castiel wish was an all year event. "Beautiful..."

He thought. Admiring the man that stood uneasily across the room. "What?"

The man mumbled from the other end of the store. Wait! That wasn't a thought? Shit. Castiel! Abort! Abort!  
"Beautiful- the flowers! They're pretty!"

Almost shouting, Castiel called toward the man. Smooth, Castiel. Smooth. "Um, yeah. They are really nice actually."

He mused. As if nothing just happened, he strolled, completely casually over to Castiel, with the bouquet of bright yellow flowers neatly caressed his arm. "They're yellow poppies, by the way." 

The man in front of Castiel was even more stunning close up. He had freckles lightly painted onto the tip of his nose and underneath his eyes. They were faint, but made him seem more innocent. And now Castiel could see the tan, browny colours that slipped into his irises, they took Castiel's breath away. His brow was furrowed like a kid trying to decide which flavour ice cream to choose, like it was the end of the world if he made the wrong choice. "Who are they for?" 

The blue eyed man piped up. He rarely talked to strangers. All of his customers had been to his shop at least once before, and even then he'd met them through the people who did come to the florist. But for someone Castiel had just met, this man made him feel like he could actually physically hold a conversation without breaking down or running away. "My old man. We Uh, he usually doesn't like this kind of thing, but he deserves it I think."

Castiel saw this was making the man uncomfortable, so he dropped the subject gladly. "So are you- moving here or are you just seeing your dad?"

The green eyed wonder handed Castiel the money. His arm twisted into Castiel's personal space. Ignoring the change, Castiel let him place it on the counter before he finally picked it up without the use of contact, and he carefully placed it into the register as neatly as possible. With a raised eyebrow, the man continued. "I decided it was time for a change of scenery, so here I am. I've already moved into this really horrible apartment complex. For now, And I've gotta help dad with some work stuff too."

The man prepared to stride off toward the door, when he turned around swiftly, new prize of flowers in arms. "Hey, can I have one of- one of those? Around the roses- I mean poppies?"

He juggled the poppies and pointed at a large white ribbon that Castiel had wrapped carefully around a vase full of forget-me-nots. "Uh, sure?" 

Slowly, cautiously, Castiel steadied the large vase and undid the ribbon. "I'm Dean Winchester, by the way."

The man grinned as Castiel's brow unfurrowed, finally releasing the vase of its ribbon captor. "Castiel Novak."

He quietly mumbled, shuffling his feet like it was choreographed. "That's a nice name. It's really unique."

Dean smiled sweetly. "I bet you say that to all the girls."   
Castiel's eyes widened in shock once again from his comments. "My parents are super religious. Hence the name- Here;"

Dean held out the flowers so Castiel could wrap the bright ribbon around the bunch of poppies. Dean's eyes kept locked onto Castiel's dodging ones, and they stood in careful silence, the way Castiel liked it, until Dean had to ruin it. "The blue flowers behind you match your eyes."

He blurted out, then turned a bright Crimson, making his barely seen freckles pop. Castiel couldn't do anything but nod slightly, and smiled, looking down. Determined to continue the conversation Castiel desperately wanted to end, Dean resumed. "Well, do you Uh, have a business card or something? I will definitely be back here to buy some flowers for my girlfriend."

A flash of dismay crossed Castiel's eyes. Girlfriend? Of course. Now for other reasons than his constant fear of new people, Castiel kept his vision away from the tall man hunched in his shop, now scratching the back of his head, his eyes widened at Castiel's saddened figure. "I'm kidding! Castiel I don't have a girlfriend, I was joking..."

Castiel hesitated for a moment mostly in shock. Coming to a realisation why Dean actually wanted his number. Was Dean flirting with him? The shorter man looked up and saw Dean's lower lip pouted pleadingly. Castiel sighed, nodded and began to write his phone number down onto a piece of the neat papers he'd cleaned earlier rather than giving Dean his business card. He was concentrating fully on writing down every number neatly and correctly. "You know Dean, if you would like my number, you can just ask..."

Dean raised an eyebrow at this, making Castiel slightly uncomfortable. He shifted uneasily where he stood. Surprisingly, Dean noticed this, and stopped pulling his expression immediately. Now sighing and stretching out his free arm like he'd just woken up from a long nap. "Are you always this attentive and adorable? I mean- I didn't-"

"Here's my number."

Castiel muttered. Saving Dean from his red cheeks. Why was this gorgeous man hitting on him? "I'm gonna go... See you 'round Castiel."

"Wait!"  
Impulsively, Castiel called, and Dean turned his body around again, this time eyeing Castiel instead of the vase. "Did you Uh, want them? My Uh- The forget-me-nots, I mean?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not usually a flowers guy, they always end up dead and in the garbage. And that depresses me." 

Castiel nodded understandingly, but then tilted his head. "Not everything perfect lasts forever Dean Winchester." 

Dean affirmed, Taking in that opinion. Castiel knew he'd dwell on that one for a while. Something to remember him by. Bobby always taught him to make an impression.  
The short, dark haired man watched Dean push through the door, arms occupied, busy. mentally compromised, he stumbled out of the store, and Castiel let out a large breath of air he didn't know he was holding in, as he dropped his head onto the counter, his cheeks a bright rose tinge. 

***


	2. New town, new faces...(old ones too)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean isn't too impressed about his living conditions, but maybe his work neighbour can make the days a little easier to bear

What. The. hell. Was. That.

Dean pressed his lean body up against the closest empty brick wall he could find, taking deep and heavy breaths, trying to catch the air with his mouth like a dog lapping at flies. With a bunch of vibrant yellow flowers wrapped in his grasp, he closed his eyes trying to remember what had just happened.  
It was a simple task, not something too difficult; Go into a florist, buy a bunch of flowers he thought bobby would like, and leave. No questions asked, and certainly no phone number neatly folded in his supposed free hand. 

But there it was, Gripped in his fist, A set of scribbled numbers on a coffee stained, scrappy piece of paper.

Castiel Novak's number; his new acquaintance, the short, very dark brown sex-haired, icy blue eyed nervous wreck. The one who had trouble taking money from Dean's hand.  
Dean had no idea why this boy seemed so interesting to him. Maybe it was those perfect, sapphire eyes. They looked like they were plucked from the Stars by angels themselves (did Dean just actually think that? Maybe he should be a poet), they also seemed to have an unfathomable spectrum of different blues Dean never even thought existed. Maybe it was his snide but shy remarks or his muscular back Dean could tell was there even when he wore that adorable blue sweater that matched his eyes. Maybe it was that Dean felt this man had so much more to him than what met everyone's eyes. He pondered on it a moment. It was probably the last one.

His breath slowing now, calming by the thought of the sea of the mans eyes, Dean recalled the events;  
How the shorter man couldn't look at Dean until he was looking away from Castiel, the way- (Dean took another deep breath and his cheeks turned Crimson) the way Castiel was staring at his butt. 

Dean wasn't the kind of guy who spent emotional and spiritual time with someone, it was mostly just- fucking. So actually meeting someone so soon he was interested in for more than just physical appearance was a rare occurrence. He knew this attraction was different because it had an alternate feel about it; he didn't immediately go for all of the pick up lines he could muster, and hadn't immediately built up his cocky, self-assured armour that he used for bartenders and hot waitresses. 

It wasn't because people didn't meet his standards, it was just because nobody wanted to get to know him for more than his body.  
'I'm not a self-assured person, I'm not cocky, it's just the truth.'  
Dean thought as he placed the small fold of paper into his pocket so he could ruffle his light brown, spiked up hair complimented with another exhale. He wasn't going to overthink this. He just got here.

Suddenly, there was a rapid buzzing in his jeans pocket. The vibration blasted 'cherry pie by warrant' for everyone to hear. He blushed because Dean forgot to put his phone on silent, and knew he was in hearing distance from the shop where the curious man he had just met worked idly. Praying silently to himself for Castiel not to have heard it, he answered his phone. A garbled "Dean." Came from the other end. 

Dean's eyes widened at the weak demeanour of his voice, but raised an eye at the strange, low moan that hummed after it. "Sammy? What's wrong?"

There was a pause, followed by a lot of muffles and shuffling. His brother was extremely weary sounding, which made Dean begin to grit his teeth "Give me that samoose! Jesus."

Another voice in the background obviously confiscated the phone from sam, making Dean begin to sweat and become even more nervous. "What's happening? Is sam alright? Who is this?"

"You know this usually ain't a good time sugar because we are typically in class right now, but my Sammy has currently been hospitalised." 

"Hospitalised? Your Sammy?"

Dean almost gagged from the other end. He knew who it was now was now. "Gabriel fucking Milton- I swear to all that's holy if you hurt my brother-"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, I didn't do nothin'. we haven't gotten the exact 'deets' of what happened yet, but pretty much, Sammich and I were out partying, and uh, he may have tripped over and fallen down a lot of stairs. oh, right, and I'd prefer the nickname angel, bee-tee-dubs- At least that's what your little bro calls me."

Dean's fists gripped shortly, as he heard the wink and a quickening in Gabriel's voice. Dean was sure Sam's boyfriend could sing the entire bohemian rhapsody with a mouthful of marbles. underwater. Flawlessly. 

When dean realised he was crumpling the flowers, He took a deep breath. Dean couldn't think which was less believable; Sam was in hospital, or that he was out partying when he hurt himself. "It happened last night at like- 4am. I hadn't thought of calling you till now, sorry. You were his emergency number, and I realised it'd probably be a good idea to let you know what's happened."

Gabriels voice was solemn now. Dean could tell it was an unusual tone for him. He almost sounded uncomfortable, "did you want me to come down there? I can start driving now-"

Dean offered as he calmed himself again, now feeling like Gabriel was taking good care of sam at least until he got there. "Fuck no!"  
Sam shouted from the other end, then Dean heard yet more shuffling and scuffing. Gabriel had given the phone back to Dean's little brother. "Dean. You just got down there. You're not coming all the way back because I fell down a friggin' set of steps. We are fine here. Stay where you are-"  
Sam winced as the bed squeaked. "I'll call you when I actually find out what's happened to me, and then we can work it out from there."

Sam ended the phone call abruptly with a final huff, and Dean sighed. "Damn it sammy!"

He rocked his head back onto the brick, concerned and slightly worried about his younger brothers condition. Sam is supposed to be busy learning how to protect innocent people from jail like a normal lawyer-in-training, not partying with boyfriend at ungodly hours of the night.  
Dean shook his head. College kids.  
Of course as soon as Dean soon leaves town his little brother gets hurt. 

Repeatedly exhaling, Dean thumbed around his Jean pocket for his keys. 

Before he knew it, he was standing at the driver seat door of a stunning, mesmerising, sleek, black Chevrolet Impala. Maybe Dean was lying to Castiel after all when he said he didn't have a girlfriend. Because if he actually did, his car would be her. when he finally got the keys out, and hurried them into the lock slightly ecstatic, he was frantic to turn on his beautiful car and hear her purr, Dean almost threw himself into the leather seat excitedly. "Hey baby."

He whispered as he patted the dashboard gently, and nodded at her rear-view mirror. as if she was greeting him hello back, the air conditioners hummed and blew extremely cold air onto Dean's face comfortingly. But nothing compared to the warm welcome Dean received when he turned the keys all the way to turn her ignition on. 

"That's it girl. Let's get-"  
Dean paused. Maybe 'home' wasn't the best term for his apartment just yet, or ever. "Get to the dump"

He finished his encouragement, and drove toward the unkept part of the town. 

He tried his best to kept his vision straight on the road, and not to look at anyone he hadn't needed to. He couldn't afford to piss someone off accidentally, and get evicted as soon as he moved in. And there was a lot of people to piss off around here. He wasn't scared, of course; he could take any of them, with both hands behind his back and was blindfolded. It was all his first father would train him to do. All day long... 'you have to learn how to fight to protect your brother when I'm gone, Dean.' 

His biological fathers blurred voice echoed in his mind. A small freckled boy with light sandy hair and teary green eyes, about seven, had his hands held high in a defensive position, like he was learning some sort of martial art. 'You won't be worth anything unless you can look after sammy' 

The young boy punched a bag, barely moving it.

'You never lose sight of him, never let him get hurt.' 

He punched it harder, but Dean's gruff fathers voice became angrier and more frustrated each time he spoke. "Shoot first, ask questions later!"

No matter how hard the small boy tried to get the ginormous punching bag to move, it just wouldn't budge. The young boy couldn't hold back the tears that began to stream down his pale face, when the older man threw his arms of furiously. "Fuck Dean!"

The mans voice finally cracked, as Dean recollected how his father had raised his fist toward the boy, bringing it down swiftly toward the small child's face, Dean shut his eyes tightly and shook the memory off before it could get any worse.

Dean stumbled into a large hall. His room was on the first floor, so he scouted for his number. Smoke trailed across the ceiling, making Dean sputter and cough. He'd written the number on his hand, but it was extremely difficult to read due to how hard it was to see through the disgusting tinge of the air. Dean turned to peer at where there were two women sitting in the way of the staircase that led to the next floor. Their legs slightly parted, their too-tight miniskirts making Dean gag. They stared Dean up and down and he swore one growled hungrily. "Looking for some fun sugar? If you have the cash-"

One of them cooed him over, but he determinedly ignored them. The sooner he was out of these streets the better. Usually he'd be up for anything and would pick up a prostitute any day, but he'd had a long one, and he wasn't in the mood right now.

Unlocking the barred door, he pressed into his 'so called' living room and placed the flowers on the the table gently. Dean also couldn't afford proper place yet either. at least one larger than a common bathroom. He hadn't had a single steady job back in Kansas and they were extremely hard to come by around there anyway, so he hadn't much money saved up to look after himself, Just what he could scrape from helping an old friends of bobby's participate their crazy antics. Which either consisted mostly of helping sheriff jody mills catch thieves and scare of trespassing teens from abandoned properties (off record, of course), or helping some of Bobby's colleagues, like rufus, hunt deer and animals (which is where Dean originally fell in love with and learnt all about guns), or he worked casually as a bartender at a local waterhole. Just enough to get by really.

As Dean locked every latch and lock he could behind him, he stared around the almost empty apartment, and he grimaced. There were holes in almost every wall, wires frayed and exposed in corners and out where they could easily be touched by anyone, the floor was soaked with dry and sticky fluids Dean didn't even want to begin to guess the name of, messy rubbish from the previous owners littered across the floor and the constant smell of what Dean couldn't put his finger on, but assumed was a gas leak or sulphur. Even if he wasn't sure why there'd by sulphur around.

There was no furniture anywhere; Dean brought himself, his baby, his guitar, what little clothes he owned, and a sleeping bag he'd had since the year after bobby took Dean and his brother in. that's all he'd ever lived with. And was contempt with that.  
"Gotta start somewhere I guess-"

Dean huffed, combing his fingers through the light brown hair of his. It was soft and warm, unlike the chilled breeze settling around the morning. He threw the sleeping bag across the small room, easily hitting what was supposedly a wall on the other side. Propping his things down on the ground, he took a large breath, his hands digging into his sides. Dean strolled over to the small countertop where a tiny sink sat. He exhaled and twisted the tap. With a large gurgle and and a moan, a terrible black goo seeped out of the faucet. Dean jerked back, and tentatively turned it off. "Ok- bottled water it is then-"

He took a few steps into the lounge, and paced back and forth. Hands still on his hips tiredly. "Ok. Gotta stock up on food, go to Bobby's tonight, call Samantha again later..."

Dean's checklist was cut entirely short when there was a loud rapping at the door. Dean was surprised when the door hadn't flown off the hinges due to how termite-attacked and frail it looked. Hesitantly, Dean paced over to the door. But before he peered through the eyehole, he shifted from his left foot to the right. Checking that all the locks were firmly secure On the door. "Sorry! Not interested in what you're selling! Thanks anyway."

A husky voice called back at him, Dean could tell this man was grinning slightly. "Good thing I'm not sellin' anything then."

Dean knew that voice...  
Finally Dean peered into the small glass peephole; a man was staring at the door, arms folded tapping his foot impatiently. He looked around Dean's age and had his black hat rested in one hand, a muscular large build, and light hair. He had a furrowed brow that examined his wrist carefully as if he was looking at a watch though there was none. He wore a dark black jacket over all his other extremely dark clothes. He looked as if he belonged in a biker gang. 

Carefully unlatching the door, Dean tentatively creaked it open. Dean was taller than the man, but not by much. The man obviously knew Dean, but Dean had only the slightest idea of who he was.

Dean raised an eyebrow at the man, still looking him up and down curiously. "Yeah? What of it?"

"Dean. It's me, Benny, Benny Lafitte. Remember me?" 

Dean stopped dead. Benjamin was bobby's other clerk at his gun store. "Right! Benny! We talked on the phone."

"So you'll be taking over the boss' hours then?"

Dean nodded, but corrected him. "Actually, I'll be working there nine-to-five. Working full time." 

A pile of small pieces of paper rested in Benny's hand. Dean only noticed them as the silence settled and Benny looked down at them "You're a popular boy, Dean-o. Already got mail. And Uh, heres a spare key for if you lose your other one. And- rent is due on the 5th of next month."

Dean reached through the door frame to shake Benny's hand and take the mail off him. Dean could already tell he wasn't like most of the people who lived in this building. "How come you didn't mention anything about me renting out your apartments when we talked?"

"My girlfriend actually owns all this" he gestured to the rotting walls around him. "I just help manage sometimes."

Dean sighed and looked around the the room behind him and over Benny's shoulder into the hallway. "I'd invite you in for a beer, but I haven't exactly got any." 

Benny shrugged. "It's about lunch time now, my girl's out on the marina with friends, wanna go grab a bite to eat?"

"Know anywhere good we can go?"

Shoulders still raised, Benny continued. "There's a Denny's down the street, if not, then a popular bar n' grill we can go to. Best pies in the state if ya ask me."

Dean's face lit up at the three letter word. He rushed over to grab his large leather jacket and hurried Benny out the door, practically pushing him down the hall. "Woah, easy there brother."

"We can take my car and you can point me to this awesome place."

Giddy, Dean trudged passed the two women without a single glance, Benny gave them a nod "Tammy, Lola" 

They giggled and waved Benny out onto the street, tailing behind Dean. "You know them?"

Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow. "They live here, stupid. Sometimes they don't make it to the apartment though. They sorta just sit at the stairs and sleep or pass out. I'm never sure which one it is exactly. They're good people though Dean, just made bad choices"

Dean took this into account as they reached the impala, Benny let out a low whistle of astonishment. "Ain't she beautiful."

"That's my girl."  
Dean grinned proudly, sweeping his hand gently across the hood. 

Before they knew it they were turning into the roadhouse, when Benny's phone whirred and buzzed. Answering it, Dean listened in on the once-sided conversation. "Hey. Doctor Lafitte here."

"Doctor?"

Dean shook his head is slight confusion. Benny out a finger up to his own lips signalling politely for Dean to wait until he was completely done. "Yes, I know her. Mrs Morrigan? She got her hand stuck between the equipment again? How does she even get it open in the first place?"

Benny rolled his eyes. "Yes fine, I'll be in shortly."

Closing his cell, Dean lowered his sight. No pie, then. "old, delusional Mrs Morrigan has been having some issues, and she specifically requested I help her."

"What? I'm so confused now. You work with bobby-"

"One; I did work with bobby, till he retired that is, and two; I started volunteering down at the blood bank in my off hours. Thought it might help me get a qualifications for a doctorate. Mrs Morrigan is one of the many old ladies that have a giant crush on me." He puffed out his chest as if he bore military medals. "She is one of the more... Eccentric types. Tends to get into mischief."

"Sounds like it."

Dean turned the wheel of his baby swiftly. "So you're gonna have to point me to the hospital. Never been any good with directions."

Benny nodded and relayed to Dean the way. The hospital had polished gates, and bright green grass that made Dean have to squint so he wasn't blinded by the sunlight hitting it, reflecting off. The hospital was completely white, and obviously cleaned regularly. Unlike the side of town Dean lived on. Now he knew where the common tax-payers dollars were going. He wasn't complaining though, hospitals were what were ensuring his brother was being mended right now so he couldn't be too picky.  
"See ya later there, brother."

"Yeah. On Monday to pay my rent"

Benny slapped his knees casually "Monday. Ok. Bye, winchester."

It would be another 4 days before Dean saw Benny again. 

***


	3. Hugs and movies

For the rest of the day, only two other customers entered the shop. So it was mostly uneventful and Castiel had pulled out a black pen and paper he had brought From home. Scribbling quietly on the page until his final hour of work for the day was over. He tried to draw some of the flowers sitting in his shop, but his pen wouldn't budge. Castiel wished he had Brought his art pencils and book from home so he could work on his current projects. But every time Castiel tried to work on this small scrap of paper, he ended up drawing something completely different. He just couldn't escape the memory of Dean. his eyes were staring up at Castiel from the page. And even when they were drained of all their colour, they still pierced Castiel's very being. 

They were so green, and perfect. Every Time he spoke his irises would widen in excitement and his freckles would shine determinedly. It was still beyond Castiel why the man wanted his number, but Castiel gave it to him all the same. Castiel gave Dean his number?!  
Oh god. Oh god. Why did he do that? 

Castiel hadn't dated anyone since- since never! He had no clue why he just up and gave away his personal information to a man he'd never met. Castiel began to hyperventilate. He knew what that meant. What if he had made a mistake in front of dean? He already royally screwed up their introduction! 

Cmon Castiel. Calm. Down. 

What if Dean was sitting at home, laughing at how stupid Castiel was, and how he acted in front of him? And now he could stalk him and make his life a living hell! He kept laughing quietly at Castiel, he just couldn't remember if Dean's huffs of laughter were condescending or not. Dean is probably not even his real name! 

With shaky hands and quick short breaths, Castiel reefed out his phone from his jeans pocket. With a few misses, he finally managed to press onto his emergency contacts number. It rung a few times, so Castiel placed his twitching, rapid moving palms on his searing forehead that was now sweating buckets. Castiel felt the redness in his cheeks emanating around him. Finally, a squeaky voice quirked out of the speaker. Was Castiel dying? "Castiel? What's wrong?"

Breathing heavily, gasping for some air that didn't feel or taste completely acidic, he tried to gather his words "meg-"

"It's ok Castiel. Hang on, I'm coming right now ok?"  
Her feet padded against the pavement and Castiel heard her car engine come to life. "Two minutes alright? I'll be right there. I'll run if I have to. I'm coming to get you. Have you got any medication with you?"

"Yea."

Shivering, Castiel pulled a bottle of prescriptions out of his large coat that was folded on a bench nearby, and downed 40 grams Of anxiety-relief (Like his doctor told him). Meg cooed him quietly for the rest of the drive over. As he tried to steady his breaths, And not to feel quite as dizzy. Castiel was going crazy! He was going insane. "Count from one to ten slowly, Castiel."

"W- What?"

"Just do it ok? In your head or whatever, just do it for me ok?"

"Ok-okay"

This was stupid. Castiel could be dying and she wanted him to count numbers. 'One... Two... Three...'

How was this helping him? "you still there?"

"Four... Five... Six..."

he said it out loud this time, noticing it helped more. "Good. keep going honey."

Castiel's breathing began to slow slightly at the thought of the numbers in his head and the way they sounded. "Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten"

Castiel was still breathing extremely out of time, but it didn't matter too much now because their phone conversation ended and meg slowly, carefully unlatched the door and let the bell ring softly. "Oh Clarence..."  
Megs wobbly voice collapsed at Castiel's feet. "Come on little bee, lets get you to the car."

Castiel tried to begin walking, but his head throbbed and pulsated too much for him to even think straight. He leaned on the counter, pushing all of his wight up against it as meg stared. "Is it okay if I touch your arm and walk you outside?"

No matter the amount of times this happened to him, meg always asked Castiel to touch him before she actually did. Consenting to the gesture (as per usual) Castiel reached his arm out for her, she looped hers around Castiel's and tentatively shuffled him out of his shop, flipping the "open" sign to "closed" behind her. 

Meg let go of Castiel carefully and turned to unlock her car. Castiel was violently shaking on the sidewalk in front of everyone to see. His symptoms were only going to get worse from here. And as if on cue, Castiel's legs Gave in, and his head spun like a top. "Woah there!"

Meg caught him just before he fell face first into the gutter luckily. And she hauled him up onto his feet again. Castiel finally regained his balance as meg placed him on his own two feet. Like he was a puppet and strings had pulled him up. Meg kept a tight grip on Castiel's hand and repeatedly squeezed it as to keep him focused. "Meg, I'm going to d- die"

The way Clarence said it made Meg's eyes water, her stomach become a gymnast and her forehead begin to sweat. "It's ok,"  
She tried to keep her voice from wobbling. She had to convince herself Castiel wasn't actually dying. "I'm here alright"

"Meg don't leave me. Don't make me go to the hospital with you. I don't want to live there. I'm going insane, but I like my house-"

"You're not going crazy Castiel. And I'm not going to put you in the institution. You're fine, i promise, I'm here."

She finally unlocked the car and ushered Castiel inside her incomparable, 1965, cherry red mustang. He fell into the leather seat and the familiar smell of meg washed over him. It eased his attack a little, but not enough for him to not moan in pain loudly, still gasping for some sort of breath. 

"Meg. I need to go to a hospital."

"You're fine Clarence, let's just get you back to my house."

Every time something like this happened to Castiel, Meg always felt so sickly afterward. Like someone had opened her gut up, thrown a dozen large rocks in her stomach and sown it back up, just to watch her struggle and feel weighed down. She kept a smile and a kind voice though, contrary to her uneasiness. Putting her car into gear, she revved her beautiful vehicle towards her home, speeding straight for it. Careful not to go too fast though, so Castiel wouldn't vomit. 

Meg dealt with people who had extreme symptoms all the time, but Castiel was a completely different case entirely. He could talk to people, and be absolutely fine and responsive one moment, and the next extremely terrified of everything. Like someone had possessed him and he was a completely new person. His anxiety didn't run his life, but it snuck up on him when he was vulnerable. Cas was a small gazelle, and his disease was the lion. She looked out for him, but constantly offered him to try and adjust to new situations and activities. Hoping many a new viewpoint or new friends would help. She always invited him to her parties, even if they were small, even if she knew he'd say no, she always would ask.  
Meg knew that he'd decline, and she knew he'd only want to be around solely her. Which gave the 24 year old girl a sense of worth and virtue. 

Being best friends since they were 17 was something to celebrate, but looking after each other since then is something different entirely. Something Meg felt proud of, and hoped Castiel felt the same.

Meg loved Castiel and all his flaws. 

***

"Would you like some bread Clarence?"

Castiel blew the steam silently away from his large soup mug, still shaking slightly. Trying to ignore the aftermath of his attack, he inhaled a tantalising smell of the chicken soup meg had cooked all day for him. He turned and nodded at meg, she purposely hadn't given him a spoon yet, so he'd have to wait for her to bring him one so they could eat together. "Don't start the movie without me!" 

Her concerns flooded into the lounge room. "I promise."

Castiel grinned, contrary to his tricking and red hot cheeks. A large quilt draped over his curled up thighs as he warmed his freezing hands. How was it really this cold in summer?  
Meg was holding two large spoons, her own bowl of soup, two glasses of water and a few thick pieces of buttered bread on a dinner tray. And placed it carefully on her coffee table. "There. So what has the tv master chosen for us tonight?"

"C- Captain America."

"The first one or the second?"

She grinned, showing Castiel he chose well "second of course."

"Ugh. I wish I had Bucky's makeup skills."

That choked a laugh out of 'Clarence' and he retorted "yeah? Well I think Peggy has the best taste in red lipsticks, I swear it might be man blood."

Meg laughed hysterically, thought her gasping breaths, she stole the remote of Castiel. "Ok nerd, let's watch then."

They sat in silence for the next hour and a half, curled up in Megs giant duvet and sipping small drops of their waters together, and their bowls piled all over her small table, cleaned and empty.

The credits rolled, and like clockwork, meg switched off the television like she always did, and shuffled herself to face Castiel's large, azure expression. Every time this happened to Castiel, meg took him to her house, plopped him onto her comfy lounge and they watched a movie together, then after, meg would talk to him. "So. You want to talk about it?"

As usual, Castiel shook his head "not yet."

"Ok. Well ask me some stuff then, and when you're ready, we can talk about it."

"What did you do today?"

"Well, I turned up at work, and had a grand ol' time in the lunch room. A large mob of the patients sat down and played twister with me. And a new cute little guy was submitted today. He looked a lot like you Clarence."

Castiel raised his eyebrows. Meg did not care if the patients weren't all there, or didn't have the ability to understand everything she said, she loved them anyway. "He won. Twister, I mean."

She grinned at the fond memories. "Did anything else happen?"

"Well, Garth and Adam actually turned up to the ward today, even after the insane party I had last night... Sorry about all the noise by the way. They wouldn't stop complaining about their 'killer' headaches though."  
She smiled and began to laugh. "Adam even fell asleep inside the pot of oatmeal he was serving, so that was a great facebook update." 

Castiel smiled fondly across from her. "Meg, you're really good at keeping my mind off it all... The post- post-"

Meg knew Castiel meant his panic attacks, which hadn't been getting any better or worse since he actually told meg about it not so long ago. And finally convinced him to get help.  
He would go see his doctor now and get a new prescription, but he's waiting till the next session before he mentions it, anything to keep castiel away from the giant terrifying buildings and the condescending city One town over. "It's ok Castiel, you don't have to say it. Just keep calm ok? You're here with me, and you're fine."

Letting out a large breath, Castiel shuffled over to meg, resting his head against her shoulder. Castiel looked up at her jaw and opened his own. "I met a man today at the store, meg."

Wide eyed, she tilted her head down to his large puppy-like gaze "really?"

"I gave him my number..."

Castiel shuffled uneasily "that's amazing Castiel"

She whispered into his hair, nuzzling it a bit, appreciating it's fluffy nature. With a clear head, Castiel now realised the situation between him and the man with the jade stare. The way he looked at Castiel was anything but complaisant. "His name is Dean. I think he likes me."

Meg took a sharp breath, and smiled sweetly. "I wanna meet this Dean-o character. And if he's bad news, I'll protect you ok?" 

"Mhm. He didn't make me nervous meg, he made me joke and I- I think I did good today. The two other customers that came in, I was super friendly too. They even mentioned how giddy I was."

"Do you think it was because of this Dean guy?"

"I think my actions today, besides the attack, were my own. He influenced my mood, but I did all of that socialising and stuff all on my own."  
Meg sat gleaming at him, nudging him to continue. "Then everything sorta fell apart, in my defence it was at the end of the day and my medication was wearing off."

"I'm so proud of you Clarence."

She kissed his dark strands of hair lightly and motherly. Castiel appreciated his best friends warmth at that moment, because even her bright beautiful smile shone like the morning sun. It made the cold outside a real, perfect summer. Meg bundled herself deeper into the lounge chair one last time, with Castiel hugging onto her for dear life. Now not daring to move an inch, like Castiel was some sort of baby animal that could flinch away in a second, she watched Castiel shut his eyes and she did the same.

***

"Yo meg! You locked the front door again!"

A loud rapping on the door stirred Castiel from his slumber. Like a cat, he yawned and arched his back. Meg was snoring loudly, hands sprawled everywhere and hair up her nose and her chin drenched from webs of saliva that flowed out of her mouth. Castiel stood up, and cracked his legs, feeling the extremely damp shoulder meg had drooled over. Castiel had no idea what time it was. "Megan! Meggles!"

The loud banging came again. Scrunching up his nose, Castiel tiled his head. 'Meggles' is a curious nickname.  
Castiel turned to he source of the noise. He waltzed sluggishly toward the door and passed a mirror. It surprised Castiel how pale he was. He belonged in a morgue under a plain, white sheet. He was worried to greet Meg's visitor, dark circles around his eyes, hardly presentable, and he just knew he'd overslept... Maybe the voice on the other side of her door knew what the to,e was. Trying to preen his bad bed-hair, he pulled his scarf that was sprawled across the floor over his dress shirt that had escaped his sweater, and heaved his large dark brown jacket over his shoulders, letting it flow down to his calves. 

Wondering if meg had guests, a sharp sword pierced Castiel's gut. Did he ruin her plans? Castiel shook his head knowingly. Meg always had plans.  
apprehensively, he stared out the eyehole of the door; and all Castiel saw was bright, flaming hair. It hurt Castiel's eyes to look at such a vibrant red at an early stage of his waking process. He squinted slightly and was greeted by the actual reddish glow sunlight gave off. The orange flames and strands flicked around quickly as Castiel spie, and realised very easily they were becoming distant and Castiel finally understood it was a girl, not a fire. she was walking away, and swiftly, she was skipping toward the corner of it, round the side of the house.  
He thought about waking meg up and making her greet her company, but a loud groan and squeak of her lounge chair made Castiel think better of it. 

Who was the stranger? Were they a friend of Meg's? maybe they were here to rob her?  
Castiel shuddered at the idea of the confrontation. Before he realised, he was outside tapping his toe with folded arms, watching a jean encased butt try and scramble through Meg's window. "Ahem"

Almost rudely, Castiel called for the ass' attention. It made a little squak and pulled itself out from the window that was ajar.  
Now in front of him, a pair of beautiful regal blue eyes glinted and squinted. "Oh. Hi Cassie!"

Castiel shuffled his feet uneasily. He never liked that nickname. "Mm."  
He thought about leaving the conversation there, but knew the polite thing to do was to actually greet her "hello Charlotte."

"Call me Charlie! We've talked about this! Jeez!"  
Castiel now regretted not picking up on her nickname first. Her eyes widened playfully. She lightly punched Castiel's arm, making him sway slightly, dampening their conversation even more. "What were you doing trying to get into Meg's house?"

She barked gleefully at Castiel's accusation, which he thought was pretty intimidating despite his actual fear that resided in his stomach. "Did meg not tell you? I live here now. She hasn't given me a key yet, but I came over to actually get one off her today."  
Damn it. Castiel knew that. Meg mentioned charlie was moving in a while ago, he had just forgotten up until now. "So... You slept at Meg's again?"

Castiel nodded, and charlie sniggered, taking in his unkept figure, and messy, tousled hair. Castiel wasn't stupid. He knew charlie thought they were dating. "I ship you two so hard."

"What?"

"Ugh. Don't worry."  
Charlie flicked her long strands, pulling them out of her face religiously. "So how is our little ravenclaw on this lovely afternoon?"

Castiel's eyes widened. Partly because he wanted to correct her. Castiel was a proud hufflepuff, but mostly because he'd realised how long he'd actually slept for "wait- what time is it?"

"Summertime, it's our vacation."  
She rolled her eyes sarcastically, full of practice. "No, seriously, it's- 6:15 ish?" 

"Shit! I was supposed to be at bobby's at six thirty and I haven't even gotten any food for him yet!"

Charlie grabbed Castiel's shoulders and stared up across to him, making Castiel try to writhe and wriggle out of her grasp as politely and as gracefully as possible. "Woa, chill with the blasphemy there Cassie. Some of us like to keep it PG... Not me personally, but you know-"

She sensed his discomfort and let it go. "I'm sorry we couldn't talk longer charlie, but I have to go."

Castiel had slept a full 3 hours in Meg's lap, and now he was going to be late to visit bobby. Time had gotten away from him, royally. Charlie nodded understandingly. "Well, don't keep Gandalf the grey waiting, don't worry, I'll let myself in."

Charlie gestured at the still breeze drowned window, it was Castiel's turn to roll his eyes now. "When you see meg can you please tell her I'll be back for my sweater later? And also tell her I love her. Thank you"

Castiel turned and walked away from charlie with such professionalism as she called after him "ooh! You even shed some clothes? That's kinky Cassie!"

He grunted and swiftly jogged into his own driveway next door, down the flowery pathway and straight towards the garage.  
He stretched down and reached for the door, pulling it up with all his might. 

He barely heaved it open. 

Dust scattered around the muggy afternoon air, making Castiel's little lungs swell and stutter slightly. As coughed he stumbled for a large cream coloured fabric, dragging it off a warped something underneath it. A gleaming, sleek, black motorbike rested calmly in the centre of Castiel's garage. Castiel had used his bike on occasion, but he liked walking the most. It kept his mind clear and he wasn't constantly entrapped by a heavy helmet.  
A large long legged spider hurried it's way across the leather seat that was used only last week. Castiel carefully caressed the big spider, placing it kindly onto the pavement outside so it could escape. 

Returning to his bike, he grabbed the keys from a small hook that they hung on nonchalantly, and his dark helmet that matched his bike perfectly.  
He knew this would mess up his already matted hair, but it was the quickest way to get to Bobby's, so he pulled it over his sleepy eyes anyway. He straightened out his long, flowing jacket once more and threw a lanky leg over the bike. He let it purr softly to him and smiled like was greeting an old friend. When something finally clicked and he almost tripped as he spun around hysterically.

"Oh shit! I almost forgot!"

He left the bike running as he bolted inside his house with frantic urgency. Darting around, he finally found what he was searching for. he hauled a large leather backpack that sat inside the entrance of his house onto his breakfast table. Quickly opening it to check everything he needed was there; pencils, graphite, watercolours, rubber, sharpener and his art book. He nodded and counted his small art creating possessions one by one, he heaved it over his shoulder hurriedly.

Breathing less heavily, he jogged back out to the garage and straddled the motorbike, determined to get to bobby's on time.

Castiel revved the stunning but sunlight deprived bike out of the driveway and onto the street.

***

Quickly pulling into the parking lot of a bar and grill that Castiel knew bobby liked called 'the roadhouse', he slid the keys out of the ignition and walked toward the bar instead of getting food from the new rib shack bobby actually wanted him to go to.  
he was too flustered to go to somewhere he didn't know anyone, and this bar was the one he was most associated with. In fact It was the only one he associated with.

A couple of people stared at the short, nervous, shivering man with curious eyes the moment he walked in. It made him breathe all that heavier so he pulled his jacket further up on his back, consequently flipping his collar up to hide his face. although he did this, an old woman stared down Castiel from the other side of the bar. Her dark brown hair cuddled around her cheek bones, caressing her long jaw (which got tenser the longer she stared him down) neck as it went, then fell all the way down to her shoulders, flicking out at the ends.

A strange silence washed over the room, and everyone in the bar felt it. You could just feel the authority this woman had literally emanate out of her like heat did from the sun. Castiel turned to the bar, with his piercing blue eyes and faced the woman, who had finally opened her mouth to speak. "Castiel? What're you doin' ere? Las' time I saw you, you were at Meg's birthday, an' even then you went home early. Would it kill you to pick up a phone?"

As her hissing snake like arms intertwined themselves and made a knot at the base of her chest, she tilted her head questioningly.  
Castiel shifted uncomfortably and guilt ridden to his other foot, "Ellen, I'm really-"

"My official pie taster hasn't been ere' since las' month. How am I sposedta' know if they're any good when he's off pickin' flowers? And huggin' trees?"

A wide grin formed on her face, and the mood and tension eased as quickly as it had grown. As if Ellen had conducted them, the orchestra of customers continued their melody; Everyone went back to clinking their glasses in and down their drinks in harmony, the chirps of cutlery on porcelain plates and the humble murmur of the regulars resumed as if it was never there, they recommenced their song.

Next to Bobby, Ellen was his other parent, and since Castiel got here, they'd been helping him and raising him like he was their own. 

Without even realising, Ellen had now moved around the bar (teleported, if you ask Castiel) before he had realised, pulled Castiel into a tight embrace, gripping the back on his extremely fluffy hair tightly. "Don' go hidin' anymore boy, hear me?"

Castiel nodded obediently, and then cleared his throat.

A tantalising smell distracted Castiel and he fluttered to the bar, placing his forearms on it. "Can I have a pecan pie, a cherry, and four large burgers with everything?"

"You goin' to see bobby tonight?"

The woman's face lit up, and so did Castiel's "yea, we are going to watch the big game, whatever it actually is..."

The dark haired woman chuckled joyfully, then turned very swiftly to the door on the other side of the counter. It was jarred open. "Well, if you're going to bobby's you're going to need extra food for his breakfast- Ash! Bobby's special!"

A greyish mullet popped around the doorway, grinning like an idiot. "Sure thing boss lady, two pies, cherry and pecan, with six burgers, everything, got it. Oh heya there Cassie!"

"Hi ash"  
A twinge of exhaustion went down Castiel's spine when he said that name, but he wouldn't let anyone know that, he just stood there, hands in pockets, smiling slightly. Ellen sat just as Castiel had, arms spread out on the table, her body poking out so everyone in the bar had to swerve around her. Ash had disappeared by now to cook Bobby's food.

"How is Jo?"

Ellen raised an eyebrow, she stood up to her full height (who was still shorter than Castiel but looked ten times more terrifying), and folded her arms again.  
"Who? Oh you mean my so called daughter? The one I slaved, an' fed, an' protected all these years? That one?"  
Castiel nodded breaking her eye contact. "Joannah Beth is off in Europe somewhere- London I think. Somethin' bout wantin' to see the world for how it truly is or some crap. I don't even know how I let her go."  
Castiel swore she muttered 'probably got me drunk or somethin' so she could ask me.'  
"She calls me once every Millenia."

Ash's voice blasted from behind the door. "Oh please, you don' let her not call you."

Ellen adjusted herself back on the bench and grumbled. "I'm going to go see how he's goin' back there."

A few seconds later, they both re appeared and ash was rubbing his ear wincing. "Jesus Ellen! Warm a guy before you tryta tug his ear off!"

Smugly, she handed Castiel's meal to him in a large paper bag. "Don' be a stranger now Castiel." 

Ash had gone back to working orders, still rubbing his ear, as Ellen waved Castiel off. "I promise, Ellen."

Nobody watched castiels every move as he left the shop, like a wound had been stitched up. Like it was never even there.

With a puffed out chest, bursting with nostalgia and for once the good kind, Castiel was eager to get straight to bobby's house. 

Before he even realised, he was already zooming through the streets on his bike, headed toward the outskirts of the small town. 

He quickly got there, and heaved the large paper bag and his lather bound one full of his art supplies off the rack and out of the makeshift seatbelt Castiel had made for things he needed to carry around.

With one... Two... Three knocks on bobby's oak door politely, he checked his watch. '7:30 pm'

Castiel gave a exhausted huff, and blew his dark hair out of his face. He was completely out of sync today. 

As loud footsteps headed toward the door, Castiel raised the brown bag high up in the air, ready to excuse and explain to bobby why he was so late. As the door creaked open, Castiel took a large breath. When it was completely ajar, he closed his eyes like he was about to sneeze and all of the words flew out of his usually silent mouth "I'm so sorry bobby, I was going to work late, and then I had one of those 'things' again, but don't worry, meg took care of me, then I fell asleep and-" 

Little did Castiel realise that the body on the other side of the doorway had his hands up defensively, frantically trying to stop him from his word vomit. "Cas- Cas! Castiel!"

That wasn't bobby's voice...

Castiel caught a deep breath of nervousness and squinted at the person in the doorway. Was he at the right house? He trailed up the chest of the person who was intruding on Castiel and bobby's television night. Not expecting in a million years for a splendour of light freckles placed perfectly on two shapely cheeks and a pair of the greenest, most lush, jade eyes to be grinning back at him with a dashing smirk.

***


End file.
